Why? Oh, well - I thought you'd be rather an attractive person to marry. That's all. I mean, I sort of took a fancy to you. I can't tell you why. There's no rule about it, you know.

There's ways and ways of dyin'. Some is took, and some takes French leave, and others is 'elped out of life.

Heaven deliver us, what's a poet? Something that can't go to bed without making a song about it.

It is impossible for human nature to believe that money is not there. It seems so much more likely that the money is there and only needs bawling for.

I imagine you come across a number of people who are disconcerted by the difference between what you do feel and what they fancy you ought to feel. It is fatal to pay the smallest attention to them.

There were crimson roses on the bench; they looked like splashes of blood.

And what do all the great words come to in the end, but that? I love you - I am at rest with you - I have come home.